


Bookshop

by lunarlychallenged



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Bookstores, Harry Potter books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15346107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarlychallenged/pseuds/lunarlychallenged
Summary: The boy blocking the aisle of books is in your way, but he is also very cute.





	Bookshop

There was a boy sitting in the middle of the aisle, effectively blocking a bunch of books that you wanted to look at.

Okay, you had no idea what books he was blocking. But maybe you would have wanted to see them, but you couldn’t, all because of a cute blond boy with his legs spread out across the way. There was one book in particular that you needed to get to, and you thought you could see a part of it peeking out from behind his left shoulder.

“Excuse me,” you said. 

The Boy In The Way looked up at you, surprise lighting his face. His eyes were glazed over; you could map out the phases of extracting himself from the story he was reading. “Huh?”

You gestured to the shelves. “I need to get in there.”

He gave a soft “oh,” scooching away from the books. “Sorry.”

You might have let it go, but you were feeling a little irritable. You had bought three textbooks that day, though you knew that you would probably be able to count on one hand the number of time you read each of them. Now you were buying some boring novel for a boring class, and everything was terrible. “You do realize that there are perfectly good chairs, fifteen feet away from you?”

Inconveniently Placed Boy grabbed a cane that you hadn’t noticed on the ground next to him and tried to pull himself up, face contorted in pain when he collapsed back onto the floor. “I would have sat there, but I can’t get up.”

You froze, horrified and embarrassed. “Oh my God, I am so -”

He grinned. “I’m joking. I wasn’t planning on sitting there for so long, but I found a good book. Sorry for getting in your way. What book do you need?”

You were caught between wanting to yell at him and wanting to laugh with him. “Song of Solomon.”

He grabbed the book and handed it up to you, settling back against the wall and grabbing his book again. “Enjoy.”

You bit your lip, looking down at the Snarky Boy With A Good Book. You had a bunch of books you didn’t want, so maybe you owed yourself one that you would liked reading. Before picking one, there was something you needed to know. “What book are you reading?”

“Harry Potter,” he said cheerfully. He held up an illustrated copy of the first book. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is,” you agreed. “What part are you at?”

He patted the ground at his side. “There’s a troll in the dungeon. Take a look.”

You sat next to him and looked at the drawings, smiling at the familiar story. Reading a Harry Potter book was like reaching out for an extension of yourself. You wanted to look, even if it did mean reading along with a Boy Too Lazy To Sit In A Chair.

 

 

“You feel like a Hufflepuff,” you said.

He grinned. “How can you tell?”

You pretended to think about it, but ended up snorting. “Literally everything about you points to Hufflepuff. You’re a textbook case.”

He wrinkled his nose, but he was nodding. “When you say it like that, it sounds like an affliction.”

“Anything with you is an affliction. The store is going to have to burn that book once you leave.”

“As if,” he scoffed. “I’m buying this.”

You had been planning to go home after leaving the bookshop, but you had been sitting on the floor for nearly two hours. You had been reading Harry Potter, but you were also talking about school and work and everything else that occurred to you along the way.

“Yeah?” You smiled at him, raising an eyebrow. “You picked up the book, and just accidentally read the entire thing in the store?”

“Yep.”

You considered it. You knew people who read books in the bookstores so they wouldn’t have to buy them. If The Boy Who Used His Cane As A Joke wasn’t like that, all power to him. You checked your phone and grimaced at the time. “Maybe you should get on that. It’s getting kind of late.”

He shrugged. “I’m not in a rush.” Then, after a pause, he looked at you with a complex expression. “Wait, are you?”

“No,” you said. “Not in a rush. I’m just not sure that we should hang around here too much longer. It seems kind of rude.”

Checking his phone once more, his brow furrowed in thought. “We could hang around somewhere else.”

“What?”

“Let’s go get food,” he said. His eyes brightened at the thought. “We could go to Applebees or something.”

Talking to a stranger in a bookshop was one thing; going out to eat with one was completely different. Was this somebody you wanted to purposefully spend more time with? He ran his hand through his unruly hair and smiled while he waited for an answer. Yes, you decided. This was somebody you could talk to; this was somebody you could eat with.

“Alright. You go buy your book, and we’ll figure out food after.” You gave him a hand up, then frowned. “Wait.”

His face fell a little. “Is there something else you have to do?”

“No, I just don’t make a habit of eating with people when I don’t know their names.”

He gave a startled laugh. “I didn’t realize that we didn’t know each other’s names. Weird. I’m Crutchie.”

“Y/N.” You held out a hand to shake, cursing yourself when it occurred to you that handshakes were one of the weirdest ways to introduce yourself.

Crutchie smiled, and it felt like a blessing instead of humiliation. “Awesome. Wait here, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

 

“Why do appetizers always sound better than the actual meals?” You scanned the menu for something amazing, but you only had eyes for the greasy appetizers.

“Because they are better,” he said. “Will it seem childish if I only get apps and desserts?”

“Yes. I’m in.”

He grinned. “Wanna get separate stuff and then share them?”

You beamed back at him. “I’m in.”

 

 

Your eyes flickered shut in ecstasy when you bit into a mozzarella stick. “I’m happy I didn’t kill you when you pretended to be stuck on the ground.”

“You couldn’t have killed me,” Crutchie said confidently.

“No?”

“Definitely not. I would have smiled at you, and you would have surrendered,” he said. He leveled you with that smile, striking even when you knew he was trying to be cheesy.

“That’s not true,” you lied. “I feel nothing.”

“My personality, then,” he said. He was unconcerned. “I’d have worn you down.”

“You wouldn’t have had time.” 

He snorted. “I had time. It worked, didn’t it?”

Maybe so.

 

 

“Do you think Dumbledore is a good guy?” You traced a finger along Dumbledore’s beard in the picture book. The two of you sat in Applebees, empty plates pushed to the side while you looked at the pages again.

“I dunno,” Crutchie said. “He’s not a total bad guy.”

“But is he good?”

He pursed his lips. “I want him to be.”

“But?”

“But a good guy doesn’t leave a kid in an abusive home when he knows there’s a problem.” Crutchie’s eyes were dark, so you changed the subject. Maybe you would earn the right to ask him about that look someday, but not now.

 

 

When the waitress dropped off the bill, she smiled at the two of you. “You guys make the cutest couple.”

“Thanks,” Crutchie said happily. “That’s very kind of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him once she left. “Really?”

“It was nice,” he protested.

“And wrong.”

“Was it, though?” When you looked at him in confusion, Crutchie powered on. “We’re two people, hanging out at a restaurant together. If we look cute doing it, we are the cutest couple.”

“But we aren’t a couple,” you said. You had only met that day, after all. You were eating out because neither of you had other plans. It didn’t matter how good the conversation was, or how hard it was not to melt when he smiled at you. You weren’t together.

His smile faltered. “So we can’t be cute together?”

“This is a confusing conversation,” you sighed. “Why does it matter?”

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. He picked at a loose thread in his shirt. “This may sound kind of stupid, but I like the idea of us being a cute couple.”

“Why?”

“Because we’ve been together for hours,” he explained. “Because I like hearing you talk, and I like that you listen when I talk. That seems like as good a reason as any to go out, right?”

You gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “Yeah, it does. Better than dating because I think you’re cute, anyway.”

“You think I’m cute?”

You tried to ignore the delighted smile, but your lips quirked in response. “That’s not the point.”

“Fine,” he said. “You can call me cute next time.”

“Next time?”

“Well, if you want a next time,” he said. All of the cheesy smiles and mischievous eyes fell away, leaving a young man with a hopeful tone. “No pressure.”

“There can be a next time,” you said, “but this isn’t a date.”

“Of course not,” he agreed. “But next time -”

“We’ll see,” you interjected. “Give me your number, and we’ll figure it out.”

The Boy With A Great Smile took your phone and created a new contact, firing off a text to himself. He handed your phone back, grabbed his own, and and texted you back. When you checked what he wrote, you grinned.

Y/N: You looked really cute today.

Crutchie: I know.

“It can be a date next time,” you said. He brightened, but you cut off his words with your own. “If you’re as good at flirting with me as you are at flirting with yourself, we’ll do just fine.”

He laughed, and the pain of blowing money on textbooks faded entirely.


End file.
